


Le Paysage Ordinaire

by yakamoz



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Emperor!Hakuryuu, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 14:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3329306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakamoz/pseuds/yakamoz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The machinations of memory couple with the landscape of a city that is completely, utterly ordinary. It makes for a good backdrop for remembrance. Remembrance and reflection.<br/>~~<br/>{{ Future AU, where Hakuryuu is not saved, remains emperor after Alibaba and Aladdin leave him to focus on a greater enemy. The Empire prospers, and the Dark King remains, having made little difference to the life of the common man. Judal is his Priest and his right hand, and his lover. A vignette about tranquility and time, HakuJu style. }}</p>
            </blockquote>





	Le Paysage Ordinaire

It wasn’t rare for those who martyr themselves to claim a kingdom, or even an empire is impossible to function with a fallen king. A tainted King, a dark King. It went against all they claimed to be pure and “good”.

Theoretically, one could follow their line of reasoning easily, of course. What was a country ruled by a King with a black heart?

A tyranny?

A dictatorship, even?

Such a King could never possibly be good for the people. All line of thought went blurry and dark down that road for the philosopher, for the naïve preacher. Their minds magnify the horrors and the despair such a ruler would bring, so much so that they protest valiantly against the rise of one. It was the mission of the good, the correct act of the just.

Reality, however, was much simpler than the martyr would like to have people believe. All a King boiled down to was how he ruled. Where the martyr would cry out and tear at his own body to fulfil the mission of stopping such a King from rule, his struggles oft did not reach the civil.

Politics, the right to rule – only the nobles cared for that sort of detailing. Even then, it was never a clean matter, politics were rife with backstabbing and lies. Death was not foreign.

The civil cared only for their own living, and a truly _good_ King knew that. Sinbad of the Seven Seas Alliance was a good King. Muu Alexius had the mettle to rule people as a good King should.

Give them what they need, keep your grip firm and your wine warm for your nobles. They were a handful if they decided to fuss, but often out of touch with the civil man. The common folk would not usually stand beside their tax collectors and most noblemen and women were aware of that. It was only ever about comfortable survival and having taken care of that, Hakuryuu Ren now regarded his capital city with a calm temperament.

Colours bled into each other to paint a complex and detailed piece of art only one with the time to sit and study it would appreciate. The city moved fluidly, bustling with human bodies going about their own business, their comfortable survival.

They had perhaps heard the martyr roar his righteous judgement on their current emperor. Perhaps they did not. It hardly mattered to them now, even in their earlier memory. He could imagine those who did remember spoke of it with impersonal awe. _‘Ah, politics are dirty, aren’t they?’_ they sigh perhaps. And after that offhand comment, they return to their tea and go on to discuss their next door neighbour with the same impersonal regard.

For them, as far as they knew – or cared – their Emperor could feed them and their home was functioning normally without any disruption to their lives now. That was good enough, and they were content.

Such thoughts swam absently in Hakuryuu’s mind, in the same distant passing, now that he had completed a decade of ruling, set apart from any political strife.

“Well, don’t you look just adorable, brooding so handsomely,” crooned a honeyed voice, above him.

Hakuryuu did not visibly start, only raised his brow at the braid dangling messily in front of him, obscuring the landscape of the city in one thick black line, tapering into soft curls as it fell.

“It’s afternoon,” Hakuryuu pointed out, as if him mentioning it would matter to Judal. A face full of youth and mischief followed the braid, and the Magi smiled down to him brightly.

“I know! It’s actually pretty nice, waking up to the sun warmin’ you up. Woulda been better if you were in the bed with me, but you’re such a hard worker I quit expecting you to sleep in,” Judal quipped cheerfully, cheeks dusted pink charmingly.

He dangled a little upside down, then floated upright as he lowered himself to sit on the window sill, barefoot and with only a sheer morning shawl draped over his sharp shoulders. Judal was truly the picture of youth and immature naïveté in his appearance. He had insisted it was important he retain his beauty, and Hakuryuu allowed him to work whatever magic was necessary. It had worked quite well, and Judal did not look a day over 25, when he first cast it. He reached out and pushed a strand behind his ear and Judal leaned into his palm, eyes closing.

“This wasn’t meant to be a day off, you know,” said Hakuryuu and let his thumb brush under his lashes. Judal hummed and turned to butt his nose into his palm.

“I know. I made it my day off,” he said, “You don’t really care though, do you? Not like you had me doin’ anything…”

Not a lie, but more of a half-truth. Judal almost always had something to do, though none were vital. Heal the ailed nobles for more political insurance, be a bargaining chip for future alliances, but very little else. He had protested greatly when Hakuryuu suggested he join the other magicians in the crop festival, and there was really very little for him to do now that really needed his kind of power. He was fine as a war advisor, but in times of peace, he was more a token than an actual tool.

“Hey, I’m bored,” he began, as he often did, and sharp red eyes finally surfaced again, no longer warm and sleep-content, “Mind if I take a trip to Balbadd?”

“You want to go bully them again?” Hakuryuu sighed, exasperated, and made to pull away, but Judal caught his wrist, and kept his fingers against his moving lips, face even brighter now at his desire.

“Come on! It’s been more than half a year, surely they’ve gotten over the last time I visited. Besides, I want to go see Kougyoku, and she doesn’t like coming here,” Judal insisted, and threw in the slight jab at Hakuryuu while he was at it.

Hakuryuu frowned. “You say it as if I don’t invite her to come here.”

Judal’s lips formed a pretty pout, pink as peaches. “You invite her, but you never really want her to stay.”

“That’s not true,” said Hakuryuu, “I accommodate her perfectly well. She’s allowed to keep her previous quarters along with her new couple suite, if she wants to bring her husband along.”

Judal did not even dignify that attempt at defending himself, his face entirely unimpressed.

Hakuryuu’s shoulders sank a bit, sighing as his fingers curled over his Magi’s cheek, “If I let you leave, when will you be back?”

Judal smiled again at that, switching expressions as if sliding off masks. “A few weeks? They don’t like keeping me for long.”

A moment’s consideration, and eventually Hakuryuu gave his acquiescence. “Please don’t break any new buildings they repaired after you left. I don’t shirk from paying the damages but it would be best if you behaved this time.”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Judal immediately shot back, leaning forward on his hands between his legs on the sill, launching into an old argument again. “That stupid shorty starte—”

“Alright, alright, I know, but please. Make an effort,” Hakuryuu cut in, stern as he kept stroking over his Magi’s cheekbone, “I don’t feel like visiting to apologize for you. You’re at thirty years now, please at least exercise some restraint.”

Judal soured at the mention of his age, “Oh, don’t you use that with me, I’ll get mad.”

“Right, I apologize,” Hakuryuu supplied readily, almost on automatic. Judal sniffed and pushed himself off the sill, slipping down but his feet did not touch the ground. Instead he floated just above it, and guided both of Hakuryuu’s arms around him so that he could comfortably slot his own under them.

Judal was an affectionate being by nature, always seeking contact with Hakuryuu. The bond between a king and their magi often became stronger as time passed, the more their magoi bonded, and black rukh was the strongest binder possible.

In fact, it was silly Hakuryuu even had to ask, Judal wasn’t happy if he was far from him for long. The bond went both ways, so he would experience the same unease if Judal was gone for long.

“I’d tell you to come with me, but I know you’re not gonna,” Judal murmurs into his chest, his cheek pressed into the silken robes Hakuryuu was dressed in. Hakuryuu brought his arms around him and leaned down to rest his head on his, eyes closing as he finally removed the cityscape from his sight completely.

“No, I would rather not. You know my reasons.”

“Mm, I know. It’s cool.”

Judal’s legs parted then and he pushed himself up to clasp his thighs around Hakuryuu’s hips, his arms still under his so that when he hugged him he was curled up and his brow buried in Hakuryuu’s shoulder. “I wanna go back to bed.”

“I have work to do,” Hakuryuu told him, but his arms lowered to securely wrap around Judal, holding him to him. His eyes were open again, and he took one last look over his city above Judal’s shoulder.

“Take me with you? Today should be my day since I’m leaving t’morrow,” Judal reasoned lazily, shifting to cling to his King a little better. “The empire can still be run with me on your lap, s’not like you gotta move around a lot.”

Hakuryuu wanted to remind him he wasn’t going away for long at all, but he convinced himself that there was reason in Judal’s words. So he bounced him up and turned away from the cityscape to walk back to his desk.

“To work, then.”


End file.
